Encore
by Zavodnye Klouny
Summary: "He was a sugar-coated nightmare, she was a broken doll, and together they were the perfect mix of comedy and tragedy." Takes place after the events in The Dark Knight Rises. Joker is preparing to take back Gotham with Harley Quinn now at his side, and she is still learning the ropes. Can she keep up or will she become another punchline?


A/N: not much to say. I don't want to get rambling about everything trying to justify my work just because I'm too nervous about sharing it... which I am :)

Just want to say I am no writer, just an obsessed fan,

I own nothing Batman related,

And I probably really need to use a beta reader...

* * *

Life for the Harlequin had been turned upside down.

And she had never felt more alive.

Ready and waiting for the King of Crime to lead her and his men into battle into a new age of war against the Bat. Though Batman was rumored to have died years ago, Joker knew better than to believe such absurd stories. "You can't kill an idea. And if there is a Joker, there will always be a Batman." he told her once during a therapy session.

All that happened in Arkham seemed liked decades ago to her now. Like another life...

Now in Harley's mind she felt she was truly the balance Joker needed in every way he wanted and needed, but just didn't know yet. He was a sugar-coated nightmare, she was a broken doll, and together they were the perfect mix of comedy and tragedy. She would rather die then be without her knight in glimmering grease paint. He opened her eyes to the injustice in Gotham and she was ready to fight against it by his side. But with all these illusions swimming in her head, she forgot the most important thing about her dear Joker... There's always a punchline.

"When are you gonna come outta here?" She timidly asked while she stood on the last step of the stairs to his basement office. Harley had been there for a few moments watching him scribble away at his desk and hoped he would take notice to her. The only thing to come from him though was the erratic muttering to himself, followed by a frustrated growl here and there. He was a prisoner of his own mind at the moment, locked in until whatever he was after to accomplish was complete. But when she had spoke, an uneasy silence hit the bleak basement and her question just hung in the thick tension. Choosing her words carefully, like walking through a minefield, she dared to speak out again. "Well I haven't heard anythin' from ya in a while and the boys are wonderin' too... maybe- well..can I help?"

Harley jumped right off of the step as she was promptly startled. He had intentionally smacked a glass jar off the old wooden desk, the mysterious liquid adding more marks to the stained floor. Harley wasn't sure if it was a reaction to her question or he was frustrated with the concoction. Still he did not speak and kept his head down. His outgrown green-less hair was blocking her view of his face but she assumed he was still focused on his work. Indeed she was becoming a bit unnerved, but her passionate mad love for him over powered any fear that tried to slip into her.  
Cautiously she stepped closer to his work space while mindlessly fiddling with the bottom edge of her red tank top. As she inched over, his head slightly twitched about and he cleared his throat obnoxiously. Harley couldn't help but smirk at him finally acknowledging her, as indirect as it was and approached the desk faster. She pulled herself onto the one end of the long desk and sat at the edge where a small bare spot happened to be. "I do love how dedicated you are to your art." she chirped out.

Joker sighed slowly and paused from his work. Clearly she couldn't take a hint that he was busy and didn't want her interfering. He was laboring for days trying to create another masterpiece of a performance for his big come back to Gotham. While leaning back in the creaky antique chair, he finally lifted his head and looked directly into her bright blue eyes. "I am in the middle of something," he explained in an unsettling high tone. "You'll know when I'm done, don't._worry_."  
"But Puddin'!" Harley pleaded, "I miss you. You've been at this non stop for four days. Don'tcha need a little break?" she asked in a flirtatious tone.  
"...you know I must really be insane. Just the way I torture myself with the company I keep lately." he mumbled out to her as he stood up. Since she was interrupting him anyway, he took the moment to stretch out his legs and pace about the dark room. Harley frowned, wondering what he meant by that exactly. "Also, stop calling me _Puddin'_." he firmly demanded in disgust.

"Yes Pud..erm Boss..Mistah J, Sir?" she questioned, hoping he'd pick which name was more to his liking. She was still new to all this and was trying so hard not to get on his bad side. He didn't reply though and stepped over to a disorganized filing cabinet in the corner of the room. Promptly he pulled out the squeaky metal drawers, searching for something particular.

For a moment she remained silent, just trying to at least enjoy being able to watch her clown prince at work. But she was never one to keep quiet for long, her big mouth always took over. "I bet'cha you got somethin' good goin' on, huh. So clever I just can't comprehend it yet?" Harley swooned.  
Joker chuckled slightly, "You got that right, cupcake."  
Harley simply replied with a childish giggle. She was just ecstatic that she got such a reaction from him, even if he was picking on her.

She continued to watch him dig through the papers and files and quickly found herself becoming bored. She had come down here with faint hope she could convince him to at least take a break and spend some time with her. They haven't since their last session in Arkham. Ever since she broke him out, he had been down here alone with his new fixation on whatever he was planing. It wasn't exactly how she pictured their life together would be. The break out gave her a small taste of what life on the other side of the playing field was really like and she was dying for more. She couldn't wait to officially announce her devotion to him to the rest of the world. It was stuck in her mind like some kind of twisted Bonnie and Clyde fairytale.

Harley looked over the papers on the desk briefly but didn't want to anger him by looking too nosy. Clearly he didn't want to share what he was doing just yet. All she caught sight of was some old newspapers with photos of Bane and Joker's typical red graffiti doodles all over them. She reached for a half empty pack of stale cigarettes from the other end on the desk and stuck one in her mouth. Searching for something to light it with. She took notice to a lit gas burner sitting on a turned over filing cabinet drawer, cooking a mix of green chemicals. Probably like the one he knocked over. There was a strange odor filling the inclosed basement from it, and she wondered if it was dangerous to even be breathing it in. While jumping off the desk, she asked nonchalantly, "What'cha got cookin' in there?" But as expected, he didn't reply and she shrugged while shuffling over to the burner. Harley pulled the cigarette out of her mouth and down to the burner to light it. Out the corner of his eye, Joker noticed her reaching near his little _experiment _and he growled out to her, "Don't you dare touch that, or you'll be the first person I test it on."

Harley turned to him in slight confusion. His protective response to it grew her curiosity. "Sorry.." she said to him while bringing the now lit cigarette to her mouth. She glazed at the chemicals while taking a slow drag of the cigarette and exhaled softly. Harleen was never one to smoke, but it was just another little habit she had picked up recently. Any little thing that might help set her at ease she did without question. It wasn't the worse habit to pick up but anyway her conscience abandoned her a long time ago. As she thinks about it her eyes wandered over to the unlabeled prescription pill bottles spilled over on Joker's desk, next to an empty whiskey bottle. Her psychiatrist mind can't help but ponder the kind of vices he takes to and why.

Harley thoughts were interrupted by a sudden firm hold Joker takes to her left arm. He forced her to turn and face him with their eyes meeting again. "You need to leave." He said simply and returned to his chair.

"When will you be done?" she asked with a concern tone in her voice.

Looking over his papers again he replied quite emotionless, "When I am finished."

Harley took two steps backward away from the desk, and felt wave of emotion hit through her. She carelessly dropped the cigarette on the floor. Tears started to build up in her eyes but she tried to fight them. His cold reactions to her this whole time were finally getting to her. Loudly she sniffled followed by a sad whine. Apprehensively she started to sulk back to the stairs, looking back at Joker every couple steps.

"Go on." he ordered, not bothering to directly look at her. "You are no use to me now."

The last statement stabbed the emotional clown girl right in the heart and she let the tears go. They heavily fell down her flustered cheeks. She stopped at the end of the stairway with her back to him. "Why did you bring me here if you didn't need me?" she sobbed. "Was I nothing but an escape plan all this time?" After speaking those last words she was full on bawling and her knees buckled. She turned around and heedlessly dropped herself onto the bottom step, causing the rotting wood to make a popping sound under her weight.

Joker grabbed at his now pounding head with his one hand and threw the red pencil he was using in her general direction, with the other. The sound of it hitting the cement floor made her look up at him. "Why do I torture myself.." he asked himself again in a loud whisper. "That is not what I mean**_t_**." he barked out. "I'm not sure what you expected. But you can not rush perfection. Do you want us to just show up on some random street and...and just start senselessly shooting up everything? Do you think after nine years of me being M-I-A that is really the best way to approach my_ audience_?! Ruin my well built reputation and hastily make a cheap opening?! Have you learned nothing Harleen?!" He was now yelling so loudly the goons upstairs clearly could hear him.  
Harley instantly stopped crying when he shouted and moved over on the end of the stair so she could lean against the cold wall. "I was just..well, I didn't think.." was all she managed to stammer out in between sniffles.

"You didn't think!" he exclaimed. "Yes that is your problem isn't it?" In one rapid movement he stood up again and shoved the chair over while doing so. It's old back rest cracked from the fall. He was already drowning in the pressure of making the ultimate comeback and her pointless emotional breakdown had made his rage snap. Joker picked the chair and took out his frustration by slamming it against the basement wall. Harley watched as it shattered into numerous wooden splinters and worried what he would have done to her if she was within reach at the moment.

"Out." he huffed.

"Yes sir." Harley whimpered while pull her self back up on her feet.

Joker watched her moved while he breathed in deeply. His psychotic mood swings, were slightly swing back down. Harley was of great use to him, though he wouldn't directly admit it. He didn't want to scare her off already. He dropped his hands to his sides in defeat and quickly moved over to the stairs. She couldn't help but flinch at first when he reached out for her. But he approached her almost tenderly as he adjusted a loose blonde strand of hair out of her face. She gave him a trembling half-smile and his scared face smiled wide in return. "You know... you need to toughen up if you're going to join me in this. I can't introduce my little Harlequin, my greatest creation, to this pathetic world in any way short of amazing...awe _inspiring. _Prove to me you deserve it, hm?"

Harley nodded and turned to walk up the stairs. "Of course Mistah J. I will do better." she said. When she reached the door at the top, her hand fiddled with the door knob. She still didn't really want to leave him since she had no idea when he'd come out.

"Gotta take the bad with the...horrible. I'm no walk in the park. You know that." He shouted up to her as his returned once more to the desk and work, but now forced to stand over it. "You know what, why don't you come down again real soon..."

"Really?" She asked in utter surprise.

"Mhm...I need you." He paused and listened to her happily squeak. "I need you, to bring me another chair." He laughed at his manipulative joke. His crackling voice was echoing about the basement giving Harley's demented mind a natural high.  
She couldn't help but laugh back. "A-ok Mistah J."


End file.
